Lessons I Learned As A Young Boy

As a child I dabbled in murder

No barbie was safe from the hands of their god


Ran hills caked to the toe

Roughed terrain with neighborhood boys


They called me girl

But I felt boy


Upon later years I learned:





Amenities accustomed to this body;

A bustling street of hormones without a

red light


Next were breasts—

Wild & rambling, I soon

Mastered the art of shrinking


I kissed my first boy & felt it rattle through my bones

His hair an ocean in my hands as I rose up

to the surface


Later I discovered the shared experience of Woman,

Shifting about the world as a silly metaphor

Carved fingers into mace & metal

Ankles clinking busily on a subway platform


In learning to fight

The young boy dwindled into memory and

I couldn’t sense shape anymore

Fell in and out of love with woman and man alike,

Sinking deep into salt & sand


These days I can’t help but wonder if

attraction is a mode of defense

Or that of love


These days I run hills in heels

Caked to the toe in color

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